


In Plain View

by d_aia



Series: Alexander Is a What? [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: BAMF Alec Lightwood, BAMF Magnus Bane, Copycat!Alec, Deruned Alec Lightwood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Magnus, POV Magnus Bane, Something!Alec, immortal!alec, mimic!Alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 01:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_aia/pseuds/d_aia
Summary: By the time Magnus finds out about it, Alexander has already been deruned for three hours.*Magnus deals.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the tv show (and characters, locations, personal histories etc as are shown in it). This is the work of fanfiction.
> 
> A/N: I write the characters as I see them, and Magnus has an odd way of talking, that I think he used to built his image, so the italicized words are put there intentionally. The inspiration for this chapter comes from X-Men, more precisely Copycat. Hover above the Spanish words for translations, or see them in the end words. My gratitude to Lex, as always, for being there for me. Thank you!

By the time Magnus finds out about it, Alexander has already been deruned for three hours. Magnus is at Pandemonium. It was just one night. Considering that Valentine has been dealt with, and the Circle has been beaten—again—Magnus thought he could afford to take the night off to see how his business is doing. But then his phone rings. 

“Magnus,” Izzy says breathlessly. “Is Alec there?”

“No, _but_ he’s not supposed to be,” Magnus answers with a feeling of foreboding. “He’s _spending_ the night with you.”

A distressed sound is heard from the phone, and Izzy repeats, “Magnus.”

And Magnus is officially concerned.

“Alec has been deruned,” Izzy says tearfully.

Magnus is so shocked that a second passes before he comments nonsensically, “But I just saw him this morning.” He shakes his head. “What _happened_? When is the trial?”

Izzy makes a frustrated sound. “There’s no trial, Magnus. He has already been deruned.”

“Now?” Magnus doesn’t understand what’s going on.

“There hours ago.”

“What?” Magnus brings the phone around. It can’t be Izzy, because that can’t be the truth. He refuses to accept that. “Prove to me you are Isabelle Lightwood,” he orders, angry and afraid.

“Magnus there isn’t time!”

“There is because Izzy wouldn’t have waited three hours to let me know.”

Izzy curses softly, and Magnus portals to his apartment. Just in case. He loses Izzy, and she calls him again.

“I invited you to the wedding.” Izzy says as soon as he picks up.

Magnus swallows, closing his eyes, and scrunching them. “What happened?” He starts toward the couch where a hoodie is carefully folded.

“The Clave—”

“I meant what happened _after_ he was… deruned,” Magnus interrupts.  He presses a trembling hand over the careful folds, and takes a deep breath. Magnus has heard of deruned Nephilim, and they do not live long, but he still hopes. “Wait.”

Magnus drops the phone, as he brings the hoodie to his chest. He hopes—desperately—he won’t find a location of a body. Taking a deep breath, Magnus concentrates, and performs the location spell.

Nothing.

Magnus ties harder.

Still nothing.

Alexander is nowhere to be found, and Magnus is, at the same, time relieved and concerned. He shakily breathes, trying to figure out how he can start from here. Alexander is probably on the water, which doesn’t tell Magnus anything about his condition, but, at least, Alexander isn’t dead.

Magnus tries a third time, and he’s convinced: Alexander is out of his reach.

“I can’t find him,” Magnus lets Izzy know, picking up his phone again. “Where are you?”

“In Idris.”

“I’ll be right _there_.”

“Mag—”

Magnus hangs up, and creates a portal.

*

“ _Tell_ me,” Magnus orders. He thinks that maybe he should be gentler with Izzy, but the thought lacks conviction. Magnus doesn’t have the energy.

“He was sent to the New York Institute for one more night. We went with him, made sure he was comfortable, while Jace threw several Iratze on himself, then we returned to talk with everyone we know, trying to make them take it back. There was nothing you could have done, and he said to leave him alone for a bit, so I didn’t call you… When I went to see how he was coping, he wasn’t there,” Izzy tells him in a rush. “I thought he might be with you.” She looks at his accusingly. “What do you mean you couldn’t find him?”

“Alec is out of the location spell’s range,” Magnus says.

Izzy frowns. “But that would mean he’s on water.”

“Yes,” Magnus answers shortly. “Start _from_ the beginning.”

“We were at the Institute, when the Clave Representative came with a Warlock and announced that Alec was under arrest,” Izzy tries to explain. “We went with him. His trial stated right away, and, before anyone knew, they were deruning him.”

“What _did_ they accuse him of?” Magnus asks as he makes a mental note to find out more about this Warlock.

“Gross incompetence.” Izzy’s voice wavers. “They took all we did, and what happened with Valentine, and blamed him for it. And he…”

“He accepted responsibility for it all, _otherwise_ they’d come for you,” Magnus says certainly. “Where’s this Warlock? And Jace.”

“In the Accords Hall where they had they trial. They both are, and so is Clary and the Clave. Mom, too.” A small smile appears on Izzy’s face.  “Apparently they didn’t tell the Warlock who Alec was, and he was asking for protection when I left five minutes ago.”

Magnus snorts and it comes out bitter and angry. “Would that they could.” He starts stalking in the correct direction. Magnus has to find Alexander, but even if he doesn’t, he has to make them pay.

*

Magnus opens the doors with magic, making them bang on the walls. He smirks at the people standing at the long marble table. Nothing has changed since the last time he was here—there are just different faces with the same expression. He catches sight of both Jace, Albarous Cut.

“I will speak with you _after_. Stay,” Magnus tells Cut, who pales satisfyingly but nods. He looks at Jace. “You _need_ to look for Alec. He’s lost and outside my range. I’ll be with you in a _moment_.” Jace acts appropriately worried as he runs away from the Hall followed by Clary, Izzy, and his mother, as Magnus turns towards the Clave. _“Why?”_

They start to speak, and it’s the same arrogant bullshit they’ve always said. It seems the consensus is that he was actively endangering Shadowhunter life and that’s why he needed to be eliminated as a threat immediately. Magnus listens, and he realizes he doesn’t care for their excuses. Alexander is gay, he is with a Downworlder, and he is the unofficial head of the New York Institute, which stated its first tumultuous steps towards getting along with Downworlders. Either one is an offence, but put them together and they are going to use anything to get rid of him. That is not to say that the people surrounding Alexander are absolved of guilt, because they aren’t. Now, however, is not the time to point fingers.

“I’d _argue_ with you as to his blame, case by case. At the very least, his sham of a trial,” Magnus begins. “But I don’t have the time _or_ the patience right now. However, if I could direct your attention to the Accords, you’ll see that I, too, have the right to punish people who _directly_ harm me and mine.” He stops, lets that sink in. “Right now, the one who harms _relations_ between the Downworlders and Shadowhunters is the Clave. So, under the Accords, I am _completely_ entitled to do this.”

Magnus reaches out, and feels the familiar hum of the runes in the Hall. He concentrates on those at the table in front of him. “Did you know?” he asks absently.  “Warlocks can _feel_ your runes. It’s magic, after all. You don’t have those abilities naturally. _Most_ Warlocks, though, can’t touch them because they are angel signs.

“I am not most Warlocks,” Magnus says, and tugs lightly at the strings between the Shadowhunters of the Clave, and the runes. Shocked gasps echo in the Hall. “Now, I can’t forbid you from putting on new ones, _but_ what I can do is keep taking them away.” He tugs again. “You will give Alexander Gideon Lightwood the opportunity to come back or suffer this again. Are we understood?” He waits for their pained nods, and then he tears the wispy connections.

The agonized screams are music to his ears.

*

“What _can_ you tell me, Cut?” Magnus asks after he portals himself and Cut to Pandemonium. His hand hurts, but he ignores it.

“I swear I didn’t know, Bane,” Cut says pleadingly, and Magnus has no other reason to believe otherwise. Cut is only about a hundred years, and wouldn’t take Magnus on.

“I didn’t ask you _what_ you didn’t know.”

“I made a portal for NY Institute. He wasn’t in good shape, but was hanging in there. That was the last time I saw him,” Cut defended. “Listen, Bane, I’m over their shit. Let me go, and you’ll never see me again.” He seems to process the words he said, and adds, “We have long lives, but you know what I meant.”

Magnus nods and Cut flees.

*

 _“Hi, Magnus. I’m okay. Ah… It’s Alec speaking. I’m doing fine, I’m alive. I just… I need to stay away for a while. It’s just for a bit.”_ There’s a pause that always breaks Magnus’ heart, and then Alexander continues, _“Please, take care of yourself. I love you.”_

Magnus has received that voicemail the morning after Alexander disappeared. They all did—Izzy, Jace, Max, Maryse, even Robert. That was three days ago, and Magnus has decided to give Alexander the space he asked for. It is his choice. So, abandoning the search, and not wanting to go back to an apartment filled with memories, Magnus chooses Pandemonium as his place to sulk. 

It’s not like Magnus doesn’t understand the need for space, because he does, and he encourages Alexander do whatever he feels is necessary to get past this. That is not the problem. No, the problem is that Magnus doesn’t _know_ that Alexander is still fine.

Magnus sighs and lightly clenches his fist. It still stung. The severing of the Clave from their runes had burned his hand, but it was worth it. Catarina had looked at it, but having angel origins, she couldn’t do much. It will heal with time.

“Uh… sir?” a young, male voice interrupts shyly.

Magnus lifts his eyes. He knows he’s being intimidating because he’s tired, and sad, and cranky, but he can’t help it. And besides, he asked not to be disturbed.

The voice belongs to a man in his 20s or 30s. He’s blond, with brown eyes, not quite beautiful, but pretty. In his hands is a cloth.

“What do you _want_?” Magnus demands.

The man extends the cloth. “For your burn.”

Magnus closes his eyes briefly. He didn’t miss the taste of guilt. “Thank you,” he says pleasantly. The cloth is cool, exactly as Catarina advised. “And what’s _your_ name?” He winks, although he doesn’t feel like it, and apparently it still works like a charm.

The young man stutters. “Al—” he interrupts himself with a blush. “The name is Alan, but I’d rather be known by Al.”

“Hello, _Al_ ,” Magnus greets, while he puts the cloth on his hand. “I haven’t _seen_ you here before.”

Al has a complex expression on his face. “Uh… I’m a new hire.”

“You know what they say about _sucking_ up to your boss.”

“Don’t?”

Magnus is startled by his own laughter. That hasn’t happened since… Actually, it happened recently, with Alexander. Magnus mirth disappears abruptly. “That’s right. Good _luck_ , Al,” he dismisses gently.

Al nods.

*

“Al?” Magnus asks Ramon, his manager, and a Night Child.

“He’s one of Luke’s,” Ramon answers. He has known Magnus for years, and is capable of following his train of thought. “New wolf, but good control. Luke asked for a favor, and this seemed to be the best place for him.”

Magnus hums. “Make sure he’s _okay_.”

“Of course.”

*

Magnus hears a heartfelt sigh and heads in its direction. He finds Al, lost in space, not paying attention to his surroundings. This is not on. But Magnus doesn’t get to make more than a step in his direction, when Al speaks.

“Hello,” Al greets. “Sir.”

Rolling his eyes and sauntering over, Magnus says, “It’s _Magnus._ ”

“Hello, Magnus.”

“ _Hello,_ Al. Lovely night we’re having,” Magnus says pleasantly. He hadn’t spoken to Al in two weeks, but he has seen him around and he remembers fondly the person who got him to laugh.

Al smiles, but doesn’t say anything.

“What thoughts are _so_ bad as to merit that sigh?”

Al’s smile widens, and Magnus feels good to see it.  “I guess it’s not,” Al says.

“ _Share_ anyway?”

“It’s been rough, you know?” Al replies with a shrug.

And Magnus remembers that Al is a _new_ wolf. “Control _is_ a pain.”

Al makes an agreeing sound. “And that’s not all. I…” He sighs, and Magnus doesn’t think it’s a conscious move. Al adds, “I miss who I used to be.”

That silences Magnus. He knows the feeling and it’s debilitating. There’s nothing he could possibly say to make it better. So he conjures two fluffy seats, and offers his own sigh.

Al chuckles, and observes, “It is a lovely night.”

Magnus smiles.

“I need help, Magnus,” Al says pleadingly. “I don’t know if I miss being a Shadowhunter, or if I just miss knowing what I am.”

Magnus freezes. A Shdowhunter. He’s afraid to talk, in case it’s not what he suspects, but his mouth opens without his permission, and he hears himself ask, “Alexander?”

The glamour falls and Alexander is in the other chair.

“I’m so sorry, Magnus.”

“Can I?” Magnus asks with his arms extended.

“Yes,” Al—Alexander answers quickly. “Of course.”

And Magnus has Alexander again in his arms. Magnus feels like he can breathe for the first time in weeks. Alexander hugs him tightly against him, murmuring words Magnus doesn’t catch, in a voice Magnus has missed dearly.

“Why haven’t I _found_ you?” Magnus asks, holding on to Alexander.

“I changed.” Alexander buries his face in Magnus’ shoulder, taking a deep breath, and Magnus wonders if his scent is as comforting to Alexander, as Alexander’s is to him. When Alexander starts again shakily, Magnus lets go of all the other thoughts and listens, “After I was deruned, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I didn’t want tears, and what they were trying to do was… It was done. So, I went out. I was going to end up to you, but I wanted… Anyway, I got attacked.”

As Alexander falls silent, struggling to find the right words, Magnus says, “By a werewolf?”

“No, that’s the thing.” Alexander’s voice is muffled by Magnus’s shoulder. “By demons, and I forgot. I thought I still had my runes. So I fought them off, and that’s when I realized.” Alexander stops, and this time Magnus waits him out. “It’s weird. I could suddenly have the abilities without having the runes. Then I tried other Downworlders.”

Magnus smiles at his Angel, wondering if he’ll ever manage to stop surprising Magnus, and fondly giving him a squeeze.

 “Being one of the Night Children made me very thirsty. A new Warlock would raise suspicion, although I did do a spell and summoned my bow. That was fun,” Alexander says with a smile, seemingly more relaxed. “I don’t know Fae as well, so, in the end, I settled for Werewolf, and went to Luke. I was reasonably sure that I’ll be safe there.” He hesitates, and continues, “But I’m not closer to finding out what I am. I just… couldn’t stay away.”

Magnus turns his head, plants a kiss on his hair, and whispers, “ _We_ will find out.”

Alexander makes a pained sound, holding Magnus tighter. “You are something I chose for myself and… I knew it was going to come a time when my family wouldn’t need me anymore, but I never…” He groans. “This is hard.”

Magnus laughs. He learns back and brings his forehead to Alexander’s. “We should probably _sit_.”

“Yeah.” Alexander lets out a breath, his eyes become a clear blue, he waves a hand, and the two chairs become an unstable couch.

Blinking, Magnus laughs delightedly.

Alexander ducks his head, embarrassed but pleased. “I’m not… strong, but I can do little things.”

“One, you are _beautiful_. Your eyes turn blue, by the way, and they continue to be gorgeous,” Magnus begins enumerating. “Two, your power _may_ increase, but even if it doesn’t, considering your other abilities, doing a small thing like starting a fire may be all that you need.” He grins cheekily. “And _three_ , we have to leave me some talents, Angel.”    

Alexander chuckles just as Magnus had predicted, so Magus continues, “I meant let’s sit home.” He hesitates for a split second. “At the apartment,” he covers. “Oh and I’m taking the couch with.” Magnus snaps his fingers, sending it home. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Alexander replies, but then leans forward to kiss Magnus.

They stay for a few more minutes.

*

“Drink?” Magnus asks as per custom.

“Glass of red?”

Magnus hums, and chooses for himself a cocktail, so he’ll leave Alexander some time to think.

“I made sure I knew everything I could about my siblings and my Institute. It was my job and it occurred to me that maybe one day I wouldn’t… it wouldn’t be my job anymore. I’ve known this moment was coming. But I couldn’t just wait for that day and not do my job in the meantime, and I ended up… not knowing anything about me. Do I even like music? What sort? Art?”  Alexander swallows. “They don’t need me.”

“Izzy was clear,” Alexander begins counting them on his fingers. “Yes, she was under the influence at the time, but now she’s better and… those words weren’t spontaneous. She’s her own person. Max, I… don’t spent enough time with him, and I doubt that I would now. I can’t help Jace, because I never got through to him. Not really. All I can do is be there for him, but, no matter how hard I try, I’m not Clary. Most importantly, I think I need to be able to stand on my own two feet, both so he doesn’t have to take care of me, and to have reached… I don’t know— _stability_ before I even begin to help him.”

Magnus turns. “Alexander.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Alexander says earnestly. “I mean, it is, but not as bad as it sounds. I just didn’t exist for myself before you came up and it opened my eyes, and… I like it. I’d like to know myself better. If it weren’t for Jace, I...”

“You’d start _to begin_ living?”

“No,” Alexander denies. “I’m already doing that. It’s just that I worry.”

“ _Clary_ was consoling him the last time I saw them,” Magnus offers, and smiles at Alexander’s delighted grin. “Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Alexander answers quickly. He frowns. “You mean…” He shakes his head. “Clary and me, we bring each other grief. That’s something we can’t seem to rid of.” He shrugs. “But I’m glad that Jace has her.”

“If you give them the opportunity to _contact_ you from time to time, I think that would see your problem solved.”

“They’d be able to locate my phone.”

 _“Darling,”_ Magnus says. “I’m magic.” He makes a few sparkles escape from his fingertips.

Alexander chuckles, thinks about it, and, finally, concedes, “Okay. I didn’t think of it from their point of view. Working at Pandemonium, I would have been in a great position to realize if there was any trouble. And… I’m sorry I left like that. I just…”

“Needed some space _and_ now you’re here,” Magnus finishes, presenting Alexander with the glass of wine. “I’m glad you’re fine.” He cuddles with Alexander and breaths easily.

“Thank you,” Alexander says quietly. “Can I call you Mags? Do you have something against that?”

Magnus grins, happier than he had been in a long time. “Not a thing.”

 “Thank you, Mags.”

*

“ _Ugh_ , I hate the Clave,” Magnus says, voice muffled by the bar he’s smothering his face in. “You’re _so_ lucky not to have to visit.”

“There, there,” Alexander, in his Al disguise, says.

Magnus raises his head to be able to better glare when he tells Alexander ‘I hate you,’ but then Magnus sees the brightly colored cocktail Alexander has extended. “I love _you_ ,” Magnus says instead.

“I know you do,” Alexander replies with an amused smile. “But you’re paying for it. My boss doesn’t pay me enough.”

Magnus narrows his eyes. “Ugh.”

*

“I’m _fine_ ,” Magnus assures.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Just a bit.”

“You shouldn’t be bleeding at all!” Alexander says loudly, gesturing with a clean cloth. He presses it against Magnus’ elbow. “Has it stopped?”

Magnus knows Alexander worries, and just shakes his head with a smile.

*

“Luke gave me notice.”

Magnus frowns. “ _For_ what?”

“We look close, and he fears Shadowhunter repercussion.”

*

“I’m losing my grip on my runes,” Alexander complains one night.

“Would it _help_ to see them?”

“I guess.”

“How do you feel _about_ tattoos?” Magnus asks with a smirk.

*

“Magnus, I brought the book,” Raphael shouts as he comes in.

Amid a flurry of swearing, Magnus exits the bedroom. “I thought you would _only_ let me read it at the Hotel.”

Raphael shrugs. “I changed my mind.” He smirks. “Do you still want it?”

 _“Yes,”_ Magnus says, and snatches the book.

“Mags?” Alexander as Al asks from the bedroom.

Raphael raises an eyebrow.

“Raphael is _here,_ ” Magnus calls.

The door to the bedroom opens, and Al gets out, pulling a shirt on. “He has the book?”

Magnus lifts it.

 “Good,” Alexander says, and cuddles next to Magnus.  “Let’s see then.”

“It’s here. _Wait._ No, it’s here,” Magnus says as he reaches the page. “Look. The story of the Vampire-Werewolf.” He hands over the book.

Alexander studies it. “It’s a book about a collection of myths.”

“ _Yes,_ but…” Rolling his eyes, Magnus skim-reads until he reaches the relevant passage. “Here,” he says pointing to it.

“Who’s a Vampire-Werewolf?” Raphael asks, and it sounds odd. Raphael’s voice has a nasal quality, and when Magnus looks up he sees Raphael pinching the bridge of his nose.

Magnus looks at Alexander, who nods.

“It’s _actually_ Shadowhunter-Warlock-Vampire-Werewolf,” Magnus says earnestly. “And it’s Alexander.”

Next to Magnus, he feels Alexander shift, and Magnus has a first row seat to an amazed Raphael. It’s marvelous. When the appeal of a gaping Raphael fades, Magnus turns to Alexander. Magnus first sees the blue flames around Alexander’s fingers that they’ve just confirmed Alexander imitates from Magnus. It makes him feel giddy. The Shadowhunter runes, green Werewolf eyes, and Vampire fangs are cherries on the delicious cake.

 _“Dios,”_ Raphael drops in a chair. He blinks. “Actually…” He lifts a shoulder. “Somehow that makes more sense than you cheating on the Shadowhunter.”

“I left first,” Alexander jumps to Magnus’ defense.

Raphael gestures dismissively. “It’s Magnus. If you were staying the night, it was serious, and it couldn’t be serious because of… well, you. You’ll get it eventually.” He takes a deep breath. “So, how does the Shad—Alec do it?”

*

“Have already you moved your boy toy in?” Izzy demands with an ugly sneer on her face.

“Izzy!” Alexander—as Al—barks, but sends a low-level healing spell for the cut black eye she’s sporting.

Izzy takes a hesitant step forward, “Alec?” As if her brother is the only who cares gruffly. That is not to say that she’s wrong…

Alec drops his glamour.

*

“Hey, Mags?” Alexander asks one morning, lazily tracing runes on Magnus’ skin.

Magnus is feeling too comfortable to talk, so he makes a vaguely inquiring sound.

“Show me the world?”

Grinning, Magnus gently lifts Alexander’s hand and kisses it. “It will be my pleasure,” Magnus replies, gazing into Alexander’s eyes.

*

_20 years later_

“ _Alexander_ , you have to get out today,” Magnus calls from his seat on the couch and wonders how he doesn’t explode from the hypocrisy of that statement. “I know we’re an integral part of the Alliance, but you know Maia and Raphael are only so patient. _And_ we haven’t got the presents for Max’s birthday. It’s in _two_ weeks! He’s our child, _Alexander!_ ”

Nothing.

Magnus frowns, standing. “Alexander?”

“Can you come in for a second?” Alexander asks absently.

Worried, Magnus pushes the door and finds Alexander studying himself in the mirror.

“Do you remember how I looked when you first met me?”

“Perfectly,” Magnus answers promptly.

“And has anything changed since?”

Magnus wants to start assuring Alexander that he looks the same, when Magnus realizes—Alexander really does look the same. No lines, no wrinkles, no signs of ageing at all. “Come closer,” Magnus beckons, forgetting that they are in a hurry. “You look the same.” Something burns in his chest and gets frozen over. If imitating him had gotten Alexander immortality, then it would make sense for him to only have power to do simple spells. But Alexander doesn’t want it. “I’m sorry,” Magnus finds himself whispering.

“No,” Alexander says quietly. “I think that’s exactly what I want.”

The ice in Magnus’ chest, that he conjured to cover the heat of his joy, gets melted by the words, and he beams at Alexander.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> “Dios,” Raphael drops in a chair. He blinks. “Actually…” He lifts a shoulder. “Somehow that makes more sense than you cheating on the Shadowhunter.” = “God,” Raphael drops in a chair. He blinks. “Actually…” He lifts a shoulder. “Somehow that makes more sense than you cheating on the Shadowhunter.”
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you want to comment (or just talk to me) you can do it here or on my [tumblr](http://e-alexandrescu.tumblr.com/).


End file.
